Let it Snow
by katierosefun
Summary: When the Doctor comes to Clara's apartment, he finds that she's not so much in the mood for traveling today. [Whouffaldi.]


It snowed today for the first time in a long time. And as soon as I woke up, I thought up this thing. Enjoy!

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 _Let it Snow_

It was snowing outside. When Clara opened the curtains, she found bits of snow frozen to her window, and through _that_ , she could see little flurries of white flying past her. She could hardly see the parking lot, nor could she see the buildings save for their faint outlines. But besides that, Clara only found herself staring into a sea of impossibly white surfaces.

Clara smiled sleepily to herself. It had been forever since it last snowed – in fact, she had been worried that the global climate had changed for good – but at least today, there was a little hope that things were relatively normal. And so, comforted by that thought, Clara shuffled back into her bed and fell face-first into her pillow.

She didn't know how long she slept, but it wasn't until she heard the TARDIS did Clara bother re-opening her eyes. She sleepily lifted herself up from the bed by her elbows, watching blearily as the blue box materialized right in front of her bed.

And with a yawn, Clara tossed the blankets over her head, one hand curled around the corner of the pillow and the other flopped off the bed. She vaguely heard the creak of a door, and then the Doctor was saying, "Clara, you've got to see how often – ah."

Clara breathed in a soft sigh, rolling over on her side. She found the Doctor standing right next to the bed, his eyebrows knitted together and his hands twisting over the other. He was giving her a quizzical look, which Clara returned with a brief smile.

"Good morning," she said, her voice distant from herself. "It's snowing."

"I've noticed," the Doctor replied, turning to look out the window. "Is that the reason for you still in bed?"

"Mm," Clara confirmed happily. "Used to love sleeping in on snow days. I've still got to keep up the tradition while I can."

"That's a good point, seeing that _if_ my calculations are right, the next time snow will come down on Earth will be in approximately –"

" _Ssh,_ " Clara mumbled, bringing the covers higher up to her chin. "Don't ruin this for me." She might have heard the Doctor chuckle at that, though it could have just been her imagination. No matter – right now, Clara Oswald felt perfectly content and safe in her bed, where she could hear nothing but the wind and the snow and the distant beeping of cars desperately trying to clear out the snow on their driveways.

"You're still here, aren't you?" Clara asked after some time.

"Still here, yeah."

"Nowhere to go?" Clara asked, blinking her eyes open. The Doctor only shrugged in response. That was all Clara needed; she scooted down her bed, and after opening up a part of the covers, she wordlessly rolled back on her side so she'd be looking at the wall instead of the Doctor.

There was some silence – and at first, Clara was sure that the Doctor would go back to his TARDIS or something – but a half-second later, she felt the mattress sink a little as the Doctor carefully made his way in. Clara couldn't help but smile to herself. She closed her eyes again, and feeling satisfied and at peace, fell asleep.

xXx

The Doctor wasn't even tired. If he wanted to, he could stare up at the ceiling for hours on top of hours, and probably not even blink while doing it. (Actually, no, that was silly – he would have to blink, otherwise his eyes would shrivel up.) And for Clara's sake, he tried to fall asleep – he _tried._

Only sleep wouldn't come.

He heard Clara shift beside him – and when the Doctor turned to look at her, she was still fast asleep, if not even in a deeper stage of it. Clara hummed something sleepily, rolling over again. Her dark hair fell past her face.

 _Does she always move around this much?_ the Doctor wondered to himself, though he wasn't annoyed by it. If anything, he was a little nervous. Would she kick him? She probably would. On accident, definitely, but Clara knew tae-kwon-doe, not to mention she's _much_ stronger than she let on. (And the Doctor was sometimes on the receiving end of that.)

As if on cue, Clara's arm suddenly shot out – and the Doctor braced himself – but instead, Clara's hand fell short and rested on the Doctor's chest.

The Doctor froze. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to brush Clara off, and he didn't want to move without potentially waking her – God knows she needed her sleep.

"Mmph," Clara mumbled, and with a small sigh, she nestled her head over the Doctor's shoulder. Her other hand gripped the Doctor's arm, and after a bit more shifting, Clara finally stayed still, a small smile gracing her lips.

The Doctor still couldn't move. He could feel his heartbeat elevating – every part of him was racing with nervous energy and worry and…

The Doctor looked down at Clara. Her hair was still over her face. And carefully, carefully, _carefully,_ the Doctor brought his hand up to brush the hair away from her face.

Her face.

His hand rested over her cheek for just a moment. The Doctor meant to pull away – but he let it sit there, and as though Clara had sensed him, she shifted towards his hand.

The Doctor didn't bother letting his hand fall. Instead, he kept it there, pressed against Clara's cheek. He could feel Clara relaxing further – and then, her eyes fluttered open.

It took a moment for Clara to process what was going on – but then, without frowning, Clara asked softly, "What're you doing?"

"Your hair," the Doctor managed to say. "Had to pull it away. Can't be comfortable."

"I s'ppose," Clara murmured. The Doctor started to drop his hand – but then, Clara shook her head.

"No," she said, her hand squeezing the Doctor's arm. "Stay." She smiled. "It's still snowing."

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 **A/N -** Reviews are always great! (Especially since we Whouffaldi shippers need to stay alive!) Constructive criticism is alright, but flames are not.


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